


Invisibility

by sharkle



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-13
Updated: 2011-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-21 13:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/225465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharkle/pseuds/sharkle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Harry thought Ginny could see through the Invisibility Cloak.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisibility

_Love the one who saw you when you were invisible._

* * *

She _sees_ him.

He knows she does. She's staring right at the spot where's he's standing, clutching the cloak with unfeeling fingers. He holds his breath, hardly able to draw any even though he hasn't many more to take.

And she _knows_.

It flickers in her eyes like a horror show; no matter how she tries and tries to keep the thought away, it roars right there in front, in the gaze that's locked firmly on his despite his not being actually visible to her, and he feels already dead because this - this _walking away_ is _killing_ _her_ on the inside, _tearing her apart_ , and that - that hurts.

She blinks back tears and looks away.

(It's all over.)

All he can do now is remember.

* * *

Sometimes, Harry thought Ginny could see through the Invisibility Cloak.

Like the time he'd hidden under it as she was coming in from Quidditch practice, and right before he could jump out and surprise her she grabbed the Cloak right off him, not even fumbling, as though it was as simple as pulling a tarp off a just-finished masterpiece.

Or the time he'd snuck up behind her while she was studying in the library, his footsteps feather-light so he wouldn't be heard, and she just reached over her shoulder and tugged it off without even looking.

Or when they dashed through the corridors in the middle of the night, stealing kisses in deserted classrooms and halls and against walls and every few feet until they were breathless, and Filch came wheezing their way and Harry dove for the Cloak and was under it first and Ginny seemed to know exactly where to go to join him without him having to expose a hand.

Or -

Well.

He'd taken to wearing the Cloak when insomnia (nightmares) sent him down to the common room at all hours because Dean had caught him down there once and asked what he was doing and, honestly, considering his position with Ginny, he didn't want to talk to Dean.

And one night, he hadn't been sitting there for five minutes when he heard footsteps on the dormitory stairs - but not heavier ones, not like a bloke's; softer and more cautious and so quiet you wouldn't have heard them if you hadn't been listening, which Harry was.

(Although, really, Harry was listening even when he wasn't.)

It was pitch black because he hadn't had the strength or the will to re-light the fire and he liked the feeling of incompleteness, anyway, having the vague outline of shapes as his eyes adjusted but without the details.

Some things are scary with details.

Scary things are best viewed from a distance.

He thought that whoever it was would be tripping and stumbling, cursing as they bumped into chairs; instead, they navigated the room with ease, heading straight for him. He would've bolted if he hadn't been so... tired. Of everything.

And it was only when she was kneeling down beside him and peeling the Cloak back from his face and - and kissing him that he realized it was Ginny.

Which was stupid, really, but -

But how was he supposed to explain how _invisible_ she made him feel? How insignificant? How intangible, how impossible, in the veryabsolutely _best_ kind of way? How could he ever, ever even _begin_ to explain that to her?

Then, it wasn't like she gave him a chance to speak. She was just there with her hands tangled in his hair, sliding like silk across his shoulders, down his chest, and her kiss was so sad and desperate that later he wondered if his fingers would've come away wet from her cheeks.

After they broke apart they were completely gasping, chests heaving, looking at each other like the sun had just risen so brightly and Harry had never felt so totally _seen_.

Finally he had to ask, "How do you always find me?"

Because it was times like these that made him remember he didn't like that lost feeling.

And he wanted to know how to save Ginny from it, if he needed to.

She closed her eyes, smiled that very-corners-of-her-mouth smile.

"I can read you."

* * *


End file.
